


A Joke

by ReaderRose



Series: Unrelated Events From An Unnamed Underfell Timeline [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Angst, Brotherly Angst, Character Study, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Papyrus Has Issues, Sans Doesn't Remember Resets, Sans Has Issues, Standard Fellbros, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Undertale Reset Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9763919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderRose/pseuds/ReaderRose
Summary: UNDERFELLPapyrus is dead, so Sans goes through his stuff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through my doc dump to get to the TKBTM draft but opened this up instead. It was half written so i decided to clean it up. It was really just an attempt at getting a feel for Underfell for a project I have in mind. 
> 
> Nothing too interesting but I liked it enough to post. 
> 
> (And maybe I'm really into the idea of having something posted every 10 days or so and cheating to do it)

It had been years since he last crossed the threshold into this room. His brother had made it clear he wasn't welcome.

Papyrus couldn't stop him now.

 

The room was completely devoid of personality. The fins and fake tires of the race car bed had been stripped, leaving behind just a bed, with white covers, white sheets, and nothing else. There was an end table, a desk, a computer, an empty bookshelf.

Nothing else.

It looked as if someone had gotten here first to pick up the possessions of the deceased, but Sans knew damn well that no one had entered the room since his brother dusted. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find in here. Something to comfort him, maybe? Or maybe he just wanted to wallow in self-pity. Papyrus would have despised him for either option.

Of course he would prevent him finding what he needed.

Typical.

He sighed, traced the frame of the bed with his fingers, wondering if there was anything left of his baby brother in here. The only sign this room had ever been lived in were the slashes in the mirror on the wall. Claw marks. Papyrus's. Sans had a matching set across his eye.

 

After some hesitation, fearing it would be another letdown, Sans opened the door to the closet.

 

… Not empty.

The first thing he noticed was something bright and cheerful and utterly out of place in this world. It was a poster on the inside of the door, apparently another fellow victim of the claws, though this one had been better treated than himself or the mirror, taped back together so evenly it was almost hard to notice the damage. Sans had nearly forgotten this thing. It used to hang on his brother's wall back in New Home.

Fluffy Bunny, smiling brightly, arms open as if offering a hug, and the words _“I BELIEVE IN YOU!”_ across the middle in a goofy font.

The thought of his angry, haughty, prideful brother looking at this childish thing every morning made him chuckle bitterly. It…

…wasn't funny. He remembered now. Sans had gotten a contact from the library print it out as a favor. Papyrus had been an awkward kid, with not much in the way of self-confidence, and Sans had hoped it would help. He wanted Papyrus to always, always remember that he was cherished and loved. _(Then one day, he'd fucked that all up.)_

 

He turned from the poster, trying not to look at it as he examined the inside of the closet.

Some jackets hung neatly to one side, while the other was home to a large, perfectly even stack of boxes, packed neatly away and out of sight. Sans opened a large box near the bottom without any any overlapping boxes.

… Wheels?

Oh.

 

He dug through the other boxes, then. The fins, the books, the action figures, each one packed away, carefully in its place. Somehow this was even worse than the empty room. Sans had thought his brother had thrown the old toys out. Burned the old books. That's what he'd said. Yet here they were, not a single thing missing.

He'd saved everything, and replaced it with nothing.

Sans let himself fall to the floor, suddenly too exhausted to stay standing, gripping one of his brother's old action figures of a superhero. He couldn't remember its name, even though he was sure a younger, unjaded version of his brother had told him a hundred times. He should have listened.

He never really had, had he?

 

It hurt to think about, because the evidence was all in front of him now, of something he'd never dared to hope for:

Papyrus... _cared._  

 

Papyrus, angry, cynical, violent… he'd kept everything. He'd still cared about all this old stuff on some level, and maybe even about who they both used to be. He'd still cared, even after Sans had given up on caring. His brother had been far from perfect, but the same could be said doubly for him. If Sans had realised there was _hope_ for them... maybe he would have tried to salvage their relationship instead of just accepting his punishment for ruining it.

Maybe they could have been _family_ again…

 

…but it didn't matter. It didn't fucking matter.

Because this was all temporary. It would all be reset someday. Maybe not today, maybe not a week from now, but eventually. And Sans wouldn't remember a damn thing. He wouldn't learn a thing. 

They would do it all again, and he would never realize there was hope in time to fix it. There was no way to know how many times he'd already been here on the floor of a lifeless room, Fluffy Bunny’s empty encouragements mocking him. There was no way to know how many more times it would happen. It could be that all of eternity came down to this, over and over and over again.

 

Sans had been right that day.

 _(And young, fragile,_ quivering _Papyrus had been wrong.)_

  
Hope was a fucking joke.


End file.
